


Plenty of Fish

by all_choseny



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, I Ship It, Light-Hearted, OTP Feels, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26502151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_choseny/pseuds/all_choseny
Summary: What happens when the guy of your dreams is your worst enemy? After getting rejected by Parker Abrams, Willow convinces Buffy to join social media as a way to meet new people. She reluctantly signs up for Yahoo Messenger and meets the enigmatic "Randy." Randy seems like the perfect guy. He's funny, charming, and sweet. The more they chat, Buffy finds herself falling for "Randy." But she doesn't know that her anonymous internet friend is really Spike. AU of Season 4, takes place after "The Harsh Light of Day"
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. Just A Girl

**Author's Note:**

> I promised myself no more WIPS until I finished More than a Crush and Chosen One, but that kind of when out of the window when I signed up for the Trapped Challenge. *Face palm.* So, I decided to go for it and start this story now. I am now currently at four WIPS, including the one for the Trapped Challenge. I'm almost finished with More than a Crush, and I don't anticipate this story being very long. I wrote this one on a whim because my muse was being a little stubborn, and what started as a fun writing exercise turned into a thing.  
> Anyway, this story is unbeta'd. I didn't want to bog down my current betas with another one of my projects. So, if anyone is interested in taking this story on, please shoot me a PM. I don't have a posting schedule, and I am definitely pantsing this one. The goal is to post another chapter soon.   
> About the Story:  
> Plenty of Fish is a season 4 AU that takes place after "The Harsh Light of Day" and incorporates Spike's chip. Other than that, the story diverges quite a bit from canon. It's really meant to be a fluffy read with short-ish chapters. I hope you all enjoy it!

There were worse things in life than getting dumped by a boy, but that didn’t mean Buffy was immune to the hurt and embarrassment she’d felt when Parker had kicked her to the curb. She still couldn’t think about him without obsessing over every conversation they had shared, picking them apart until she pinpointed the exact moment when she'd messed up. Buffy thought they had hit it off. He’d been charming and funny, and most importantly, he had a pulse. She still didn’t quite understand what went wrong between them. He was definitely boyfriend material on paper, but somehow what looked good in writing hadn’t translated well in real life. 

That’s because boys are poop, Buffy sniffed as she ate the last bit of her Rocky Road. She scraped the spoon along the inside of the tub until there was nothing left. Great, now I’m out of ice cream, she pouted, shoving the spoon in her mouth. Having a pity party only worked when with ice cream and silly soap operas. Buffy grabbed the remote and turned up the volume just in time to catch Teresa pour out her heart to Ethan, only for him to reject her again. 

“See! She loves him, and he just can’t see it,” she sulked at the television screen. 

Buffy didn’t love Parker, but she liked him and had hoped they could progress into something long term. He’d been the first boy she found interesting since Angel left her. And if she could survive Angel, she could undoubtedly get over Parker. Buffy recalled their last encounter. She had spotted him across the quad with a few of his friends. He had waved at her, and she had waved back. Only his greeting was meant for the pretty brunette standing behind her, leaving Buffy feeling foolish. 

Foolish enough that she had retreated to her home on Revello drive. There was something comforting about sleeping in her own bed, surrounded by her childhood things. Buffy knew she couldn’t hide in her room forever—she’d have to go back on campus and face Parker, eventually. But until then, all she needed was Mr. Gordo, Rocky Road, and Passions. 

++++ 

“All right, all right,” let’s call it a day, Giles huffed, backing away from Buffy. “I think, uh, we’ve come to a good stopping point.” 

Buffy watched as Giles hurriedly pulled off his strike pads and plopped down on the stone bench in his courtyard. “Giles, are you okay? You’re looking kind of... splotchy,” she commented, noting her Watcher’s face had gone tomato red.

“Am I? I didn’t notice.” He took his time standing up, grabbing their training gear as he walked to his door. “Perhaps tomorrow we’ll focus on calisthenics. You’ve become quite proficient at boxing.” 

Oops, I guess I went a little too hard during training today, Buffy thought as she helped Giles lock everything away. He was getting older, and she would have to pull her punches. Buffy was usually good at holding back during their training sessions. But started thinking about Parker again and lost track of who she was hitting. Maybe I should get a punching bag with a picture of his stupid face on it. Then I could save Giles from my fists of fury. Or she could forget about Parker Abrams and move on. It wasn’t like a few dates and cafeteria smuggling constituted a relationship—they were barely a ship. What would people call them, anyway? Barker? Parky? Buffy winced at the portmanteau of their names. 

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Giles asked as he filled his tea kettle.

“Huh? No,” Buffy replied, absently fiddling with a bowl of potpourri on the counter. “I mean, what?” 

Giles set the kettle on the stove and smiled. “Is there something on your mind, Buffy? You haven’t been yourself lately.” 

Buffy’s cheeks warmed as she pushed the bowl aside and lowered her gaze. The last time she had spoken to Giles about sex stuff was after that whole thing with Angel. She didn’t want to rehash that awkward conversation with her Watcher again. She still recalled the disappointment in his eyes when he had looked at her. Yep, Giles, your Slayer has the sex. Embarrassed, Buffy shifted her weight on the chair and shrugged. “No. Everything is okay over here.” 

“Are you sure?” he prodded. “You know you can talk to me about things, other things outside of your duties as a slayer.” 

Buffy looked up and saw the concern in Giles’s eyes. She wanted to assure him it was no big deal. She had met a boy, slept with him once, and he had dumped. It was like a freshman rite of passage. At least this time, the boy hadn’t turned into a psychopath. “There’s really nothing to talk about. I met a guy, and it didn’t work out.” she deflected with a shrug. “I guess it bothered me more than I had realized.” 

Giles nodded and offered her a thin smile. “Yes, well, these things happen. The heart can be quite stubborn. But with all things, this too shall pass,” He empathized. “Your relationship may not have worked out, but there are plenty of fish in the sea.” 

Buffy bit back a chuckle at her Watcher’s awkward attempt at giving her boy advice. Still, she appreciated the effort. It had been a while since she had someone to confide in. Her mom was busy with the gallery, and Willow was doing her Wicca thing at school. That left Xander, and he and Anya were too busy sneaking off together to notice her. Buffy realized that she could count all the people she knew on one hand, and when they weren’t around, her life was pretty lonely. 

“Thanks, but I think I’ll take a break from fishing for a while and focus on my studies. They don’t call me book-crackin’ Buffy for nothing.” 

“Well, if you ever want to talk about--“

“Giles, you’re my Watcher, and I care about you a lot. But I am not talking to you about boys.” 

“Fair enough,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t know what came over me.” 

“You were in the moment. Anyway, I gotta jam. Big test tomorrow.”

++++ 

Willow was out again, leaving Buffy to mope alone in their dorm room. She turned on the radio, then turned it off again when Cher’s “Believe” blasted through the speakers. Buffy could never listen to the song the same way after Kathy, and her ever-growing toenails had ruined Cher for life. She flipped through her psychology book and pretended to study until she realized she wasn’t in the mood to do much of anything except burrow under her comforter and sleep for a week. Buffy threw her blanket over her head and squeezed her eyes shut just as Willow burst through the door. 

“I love Wicca group!” Willow announced as she stepped into the room. 

Buffy peeked under her comforter and gave Willow a thumbs up. “That’s great, Wil.”

She wasn’t jealous per se; she was happy her best friend had found something that interested her. She wasn’t used to feeling like the odd man out. In high school, the group dynamic revolved around her, but this year things were different. They had all grown up and, by the looks of it, grown apart. 

“Yeah, actually, the group is okay. I met a cool girl and we, uh—she’s really nice. I think you’d like her. Anyway, the group has a Yahoo Messenger page. And look, we can even connect with other Wiccans around the world,” Willow chattered as she excitedly whipped out her iBook and sat on Buffy’s bed. “We have a room we can all chat in and...” Willow paused. “Buffy, are you okay? I know this probably seems boring and—“

“No, no, you’re not boring me, Wil,” Buffy demurred, coming out of her hiding place under the comforter. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m happy you’re meeting new people, making new friends, doing the social thing.” 

“But…” Willow prompted. 

“No, buts.” Buffy showed Willow her empty hands. “See, no buts involved here. Promise. I’m excited for you.” Her lips tilted into a sad smile. 

“I know you’re not into the whole dark arts thing, but you’re welcomed to come to the next meeting. A lot of the girls just dabble because they think it’s cool to be a witch,” Willow scoffed. “But it could be fun.” 

“I don’t know, Wil, I think I’ll leave the witchy things to you. But, yay, for making the most out of your college experience.” Buffy sat up and peered over Willow’s shoulder. “So, what am I looking at?” 

“Right! This is our group chat, and everyone has really cool user names. I’m ‘Witchy Woman,” see." She pointed to the screen. “Oh, and look, ‘SommerSoltice22’ just sent me a message! Her real name is Summer; she’s in the group.” Willow flashed her a proud smile. 

The chat room moved quickly as people joined the discussion and left in rapid succession. Buffy read some messages, confused by the net-speak and flying acronyms. The internet was like a whole new world with its own language and rules, rules she didn’t fully understand. Buffy mostly used the internet for research, sticking to Ask Jeeves and Google. She never thought about using the web for fun. “So, you know all the people in your group room?” 

“Chat room,” Willow corrected. “And not everyone. The girls from the Wicca group created it, but anyone can join. We’ve had some weirdos come in from time to time, but it’s mostly cool. We talk about spells and stuff… well, some of us do. The other day someone posted a sugar scrub recipe I want to try. 

Buffy nodded, her interest half piqued. “Sounds nice, Willow.” 

“You could join any group you want. All you need to do is create an account and pick a username. And voila! You’ve got the world at your fingertips.” 

Buffy gave her a dubious look, then glanced back at the computer screen. “I don’t know, Wil. The last time any of us used the web for fun, we nearly unleashed unholy hell across cyberspace.” 

Willow flushed. “I was a little skeptical at first, but I’ve grown since my Malcolm days. Back then, the internet was a new exciting place where demons could run amuck. Now, it’s just freaks with foot fetishes. Don’t ask.” 

Buffy smiled and said, “That’s good to know.” 

“So, what do you say?” Willow balanced her laptop in her hand as she waved it in Buffy’s face. “It’ll be fun, and it’ll take your mind off of the guy who’s name rhymes with Barker.” 

Buffy groaned, covering her face with her palm. “Is it that obvious?” 

“Well, you have been mopey-Buffy lately. I didn’t want to say anything, because talking about he-who-shall-not-be-named seemed to upset you. But I think this could be good for you. And hey, you might even meet a nice non-demony, non-foot cuddling guy.” 

“One could be so lucky.” Buffy looked at the chat room and sighed. “I’ll think about it,” she conceded after a brief pause. 

“Okay! Well, just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll help you set it up.” Willow stood up and crossed the room. “I’m going to grab a shower. Be back in a jiffy,” she said, placing her laptop aside. 

“And I’ll be right here, not studying,” Buffy replied. 

++++

Buffy stared at the blinking cursor on the computer screen and frowned. The Yahoo Messenger logo smiled back at her, bright and welcoming, practically begging her to sign up. “Join us, join us,” it seemed to say. Buffy wasn’t entirely convinced that joining social media was the way to get over her blues, but it was worth a shot. She placed the mouse over the join-bar, typed in her name, and immediately erased it. No one used their actual name online, and she didn’t want to seem out of place—or worse, like a creeper. 

“Picking a screen name is important stuff,” Willow explained the other night. “It should be something that tells people about you, like Witchy Woman.” 

Something that tells people about me. 

The Yahoo smiley face grinned at her, its friendly face prompting her to type the first thing that came to mind. Buffy’s lips curved into a tight smile. Feeling accomplished, she filled out the rest of the registration and hit join. A few seconds later, Yahoo welcomed “JustAGirl’ to the cyberworld. Buffy’s heart thumped with nervous excitement as she perused the different chat rooms—there were hundreds of them to choose from. She saw communities for people who lived in California, cheese fanatics (that one seemed interesting), golfers, fitness gurus, and dating. Buffy scrolled past the chat rooms, too timid to jump in. Think I’ll just wade in the shallow end of the internet pool, Buffy hesitated. 

After searching through what seemed like an endless selection of chat rooms, she found just the right one— “Sunnydale Razorbacks Unite.” Buffy added the group to her favorites and breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t been the most popular person at Sunnydale, but some people seemed to like her. She’d even gotten a cute little umbrella from her graduating class. It might be nice to catch up, she thought with a smile. Buffy entered the chat and read through the scrolling messages until she found a chance to jump in. 

JustAGirl: Hi, everyone. 

TuckEverLasting: Hey, JAG. What up? 

GingerBreadGal: Hey!

VegansRock: Heya JAG

Aphrodesiac: hi

Auracle: Hey, JAG! Welcome to the Razorback Chat. Can I ask your name and year you graduated? 

Buffy shifted in her seat and tried to guess some of her former classmates by their usernames. Auracle was obviously Aura. Buffy didn’t know much about her; they’d never really talked or hung out in high school. She was one of Cordelia’s friends and kind of a mean girl. Buffy hesitated for a moment before typing her response. 

JustAGirl: Thanks. This is Buffy Summers. I was in your graduating class. 

Auracle: Buffy Summers! OMG! How are you? 

TuckEverLasting has left the chat. 

JustAGirl: I’m great! How about you? 

Buffy smiled as the others welcomed her to the group. She answered as many questions as she could from her former classmates before she had to log off. Her next class was across campus, and she didn’t want to be late. Willow was right; chatting had given her a little boost of happy, and she didn’t feel so bad anymore. For an hour, she had forgotten all about Parker while she reconnected with old friends. 

It was fun, and to her surprise, she wanted to log in again. What’s the worst that could happen?


	2. The Old Razzle Dazzle

Spike was starving. No, he was literally starving to death. Whoever said vampires could live on animal blood was bloody well kidding themselves. Sure, it could sustain him for a while, but he never felt at his peak level of performance thanks to that sodding chip in his head. They put a muzzle on him, they did, and now his entire existence consisted of living on scraps. Pig’s blood was too thin to satisfy him, and it left a sour aftertaste in his mouth that whiskey and Borbon couldn’t wash away. Cow’s blood was marginally better—it at least had savory flavor to it—but nothing was better than good, old-fashioned human blood. He couldn’t even walk through town without feeling like he was passing up a buffet of the most delectable cuisine he’d ever smelled in his life. And everyone smelled so damn tasty, even the homeless man who panhandled downtown by the hardware store. Before his chipped days, Spike wouldn’t have given the hobo a second thought, but now… he’d give his right arm to sink his fangs into anything on two legs. Blood, blood everywhere, but not a drop to drink, Spike thought with a sneer. 

He could try to get the sodding thing out of his head, but where could he go? Who could help him? It wasn’t like this was some average-run-of-the-mill tech. This was grade-A secret government proper hooked to his brain. It seemed the only way to get it out was to go to the people who had installed it in the first place, and that was out of the fucking question. So he starved. Spike couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror, but judging by the stares he received, he must have looked like hell. He’d only seen a starving vampire once in his life and shuddered at the memory of the emaciated figure with his thin, brittle hair and pasty skin. Spike was sure if he was that bad off yet, but if he didn’t get something in him soon, he wouldn’t be too far off from a sack of skin and bones. And that would not do at all. He had some vengeance to be exacting on the Slayer and her merry band of idiot friends. He couldn’t do that on an empty stomach and a weak body. He had to get his weight up, and that would require a little finessing. 

Spike stopped outside of the Kendall home and looked up at the brightly lit windows. He had hoped that Harmony would be home. She had always liked to brag about her sprawling home in the Crestdale community while complaining about his humble crypt. Spike found it ironic that her house wasn’t even the biggest on the block. She had always appeared like a poser, Spike recalled. But none of that mattered now. He needed a place to lay his head and two warm… arms to welcome him back home—at least until he was functional again. Spike had thought about wiggling his way back into her good graces after that whole Gem of Amora debacle settled down. He knew Harmony well enough to understand that all it took was a few sweet nothings whispered in her ear, and she’d be putty in his hands. With no money and rat’s blood to dine on, Spike had sussed out a plan that would put him back on top again. He’d come up with the plan after watching a documentary on lion prides. People thought the males did all the hunting, they just laid around while the females did all the work. He couldn’t hurt humans anymore, but Harmony could. 

Sighing, Spike moved from the street to Harmony’s front door and gave it three sharp knocks. If her parents answered, he’d already worked out an excuse for his impromptu visit. Still, he hoped he could avoid them altogether, just like he had when they were dating. Spike listened carefully, tuning all his senses on the home. He only heard one heartbeat, but he sensed movement from at least two people in the house. Good, he thought, allowing himself to smirk.

Things were already starting to look up. Spike knocked again, and a few moments later, the door swung open, and a stern-faced woman in a gray uniform opened the door. 

“May I help you?” She asked Spike. 

“Yeah, was looking for Harmony. Is she home?” Spike peered over her shoulder and looked into the house. 

“And who are you?” 

Now, this was the tricky part. If he announced himself to the maid, there was no way in hell he was getting into the house. Spike imagined Harmony turning him away before he could cross the threshold. He needed her to lay her big green eyes on him so he could give her the old razzle-dazzle and finesse his way back into her life. 

“I’m a friend of hers,” he replied. “Just stopped by on a whim, really—as a surprise. Could you let her know she’s got a guest? I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell her who it is. You know, surprise and all.” 

“I’m sorry, sir, I really can’t--” 

“Charlotte, who’s at the door?” Harmony’s cheery voice called from somewhere inside of the house. 

“Uh, you have a gentleman calling on you, Ms. Harmony. Should I let him in?” 

“Does he have any packages for me? I swear I ordered a bunch of stuff from online, and it still not here…” Harmony’s voice drifted as she came to the door and her eyes locked with Spikes. “What are you doing at my house?” she said, narrowing her gaze into two thin slits. 

Spike couldn’t dodge those daggers even if he tried. So, the chit’s still brassed off at me. Okay, I can work with that. He didn’t blame her, really. He had staked her without a second thought—or any thought at all. He wanted the Gem of Amora, and she had been in his way. Killing her seemed like a simple solution to his problem. Get the gem and get rid of the annoying girlfriend. “I know you probably don’t want to see me,” Spike began, making his voice sound rightfully contrite. “I did a bad thing to you--” 

“You did more than a bad thing, Spike. You staked me. I could have been dust,” Harmony corrected him with an angry pout. “Boyfriends do not stake their girlfriends.” 

Spike’s eyes darted toward Charlotte and smiled. “Right, I should have never tried to force you to eat steak when you’re going vegetarian.” 

“I’m not veg… oh, yeah,” she gave him an airy giggle once she realized they should talk in code. “I’m still mad at you. Very mad,” she said, asserting herself in a way Spike had never seen before. 

Never knew she had it in her. This might be harder than I thought. Spike cleared his throat and smiled. “Harm, baby, I know I screwed up, but maybe you and I can talk this out—just the two of us alone. Promise I won’t keep you long. I only came by to apologize for hurting you the way I did.” 

Harmony’s expression softened, and Spike could tell that he had gotten to her. He’d been right. It didn’t take much to get Harm to change her mind. The girl had the attention span of a gnat, and she was just as smart. If everything went to plan, he wouldn’t need her for much longer, anyway. Once he cooled his heels for a bit and stayed off the government’s radar, he could show his face again, and give the Slayer exactly what she deserved. 

“Oh, alright,” Harmony agreed after a brief pause. “I invite you in,” she said, stepping aside. “Charlotte, you can go back to your room. I’ll handle Spike.” The maid nodded and disappeared down the hall, leaving the two of them alone. 

Spike bit back a grin and stepped into the lavishly furnished two-story home. Though her house was the smallest in the neighborhood, the Kendalls had spared no expense on their home. Spike could practically smell the money as he crossed the threshold. “Where are your parents?” He asked once he was inside. 

“Paris on vacation. I couldn’t go this year because, well, you know. Anyway, I get the entire house to myself, which has its perks. I guess it was a good thing, I died before I could move out because I still technically live here.” 

Right, which gave her the ability to invite him into her house. Lucky her and him, indeed. “Nice house,” Spike said, glancing around. 

“Thanks, Mom hired the same interior decorator Janet Jackson used.” 

Spike pressed his lips into a thin smile and took Harmony’s hand in his. “I really came by to apologize to you, Harm. For all the pain I caused you. It wasn’t right what I did to you. Can you ever forgive me, sweetheart?” 

Harmony looked at Spike, and he could see moisture pooling in her eyes and tried not to smile. “I don’t know… when you staked me, that really hurt! Like, really hurt. I still think I might have a splinter or two in my chest.” 

Spike stepped forward and brought Harmony’s hand up to his lips, kissing it seductively while he ran the back of his other hand over the supple curve of her breast. “I know, love, and I didn’t mean it. Let daddy, make it up to you…” 

Harmony closed her eyes and whimpered softly. “I promised myself that if you ever came around, I’d send you packing.” 

He could feel her already shaky resolve slipping away. “As you should, but I am a broken man without you, pet. I’m absolutely useless without my blonde vixen by my side. Look at me, I’m a bloody mess without you.” 

“Well, you are looking a little scrawny.”

“Not too scrawny.” Spike grinned and swept her into his arms. “There are still all sorts of things I can still do,” he said, playfully nipping at her lip. 

“Oh, Spike,” Harmony breathed as he climbed the stairs to her bedroom. 

++++

Spike leaned over the side of Harmony’s bed and fished around for his jeans. He’d never been in her bedroom before, but if he had bothered to imagine it, this was exactly what he might have pictured her room to look at. He rather liked her four-poster queen bed with its pillow-top mattress. In fact, he felt right at home, lying in her bed. It also didn’t hurt that it came with a willing body who would do anything to please him. Yeah, not too bad if I might say so myself, Spike thought as he lit up for a smoke. Feeling rather self-satisfied, he took a long relaxing drag of his cigarette and smiled to himself. 

“What you got over there?” He asked, turning his attention back to Harmony. The sound of message notifications had caught his attention, and he was feeling mildly curious about the activity on her computer. 

“It’s the Razorback chat!” She explained with a wide smile. 

Spike nodded his head, still not understanding what had kept her attention long enough to keep her from yacking off at the mouth every five minutes. “And that is…?” 

“Oh, it’s just a bunch of us from Sunnydale High School. We thought it would be cool to start a reunion chat to catch up with each other, see how we’re all doing. So far, I think I’m the only vampire. But it’s kinda hard to tell. Oh, and last night Tucker messaged me in a private chat. He’s really changed since high school. No more hell dogs and all that weird stuff. Other kids come on to, and we play games and talk about stuff.” 

“So, it’s a bunch of dweebs you used to know in high school typin’ at each other’ over the computer,” Spike summarized, suddenly feeling less interested in her computer activities. He’d never been big on technology, and chatting over the internet seemed like the dullest thing someone could waste their time doing. 

“It’s more than that! We talk about our lives and stuff we like. Like Aura, she goes to Sarah Lawrence, and she has this fancy internship at a marketing firm in New York. Isn’t that cool?” 

Spike took another long drag of his cigarette. “Yeah, Harm. That sounds real cool.” Feeling drowsy, he closed his eyes and drifted off again. 

“Buffy’s even in the chat,” She added, while she typed a new message on her computer. “But she doesn’t know it’s me. I go by Pink Unicorn, see.” And she turned her laptop screen so he could see the messages flying across the screen at lightning speed. “She just logged in.” 

“Which one is her?” Spike asked, his interest piqued again. The whole internet chat room thing was complete rubbish. But these days anything concerning the Slayer was worth paying attention to. The more he knew about her, he could finally retaliate for all the times she’d humiliated him.

“‘Just A Girl.’ Pretty lame name, right? She comes on every night and kinda hangs around, talking about boring school and stuff. Like, look at me, I’m Buffy. I’m so smart; I go to college. I could have gone to college if I hadn’t turned into a vampire—which was totally her fault. But did I ever get an apology? Nope. She and her gang of nerds get to go on with their stupid lives while I miss out on shopping trips to Paris. It’s totally unfair.

“Yeah, so unfair,” Spike replied absently while he skimmed the chat discussion. He spotted Buffy’s messages and read through each of them, ignoring Harmony’s melodramatic complaints about life as a vampire. The way he saw it, she had gotten lucky. Instead of being some boomers trophy wife with two brat children and a cheating husband, she could do whatever the hell she wanted. Spike wanted to tell her to shut up but kept reading instead. “So, she gets on here a lot?” he asked when she was through complaining. 

“Almost every day. Why?” 

“Nothin’ just curious is all,” he said, leaning against the pillow again. 

“She doesn’t say very much, but I’m just watching and waiting. It’s kind of cool that the Slayer doesn’t even know her biggest enemy is keeping eyes on her at all times.” 

“That’s a good idea, Harm,” dismissing a vague plan, forming on the edges of his mind. His focus was on something else entirely. “But why don’t you come and keep your eyes on me…” he teased and gently slid the laptop off her lap. “And those hands, too.” 

Harmony giggled and slid her leg between his thighs. “You’re so bad,” she said, nipping at his bottom lip. “My bad, bad, platinum baby.” 

“And you love it,” Spike said, rolling until she was lying on her back. 

++++ 

Spike waited until he was sure Harmony was asleep before he slid out of her bed and got dressed. After some further thought, he realized that he didn’t need her after all. What he needed was a safe place to lay his head during the day—which probably would not happen when Harmony’s parents got back from France—and some cash. Spike eyed the laptop sitting on Harmony’s nightstand and wondered how much he could get for it at the pawnshop. With the money he’d earn from the trade-in, he could use it to get some proper food from the blood bank. That would be a hell of a lot easier than putting up with Harmony’s incessant chatter for the next few weeks. Besides, he was feeling much better now that he had some maid in his system. 

Spike plucked the computer from her side of the bed, pausing for a moment to watch Harmony while she slept. She looked almost human while she rested, and Spike almost felt bad for her. Almost, he thought as he slipped out of her house without a backward glance.


End file.
